Queen of Quietus
by too enigmatic 2 b urs
Summary: Danny has plenty of experience with the dead, that's his job. He eliminates them. His latest target is what the locals coined as Sam The Slaughteress, the ghost of a woman who butchers anyone who steps into the empty,rotting Manson mansion. Danny's confident Sam's just another kill, that is until he got tossed inside her house unprepared and she let him out, alive. (AU. DXS)
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone! Before anything else I would like to clear two things:_

_1\. I don't own Danny Phantom, Butch Hartman does._

_2\. I don't own Anna Dressed in Blood, Kendare Blake does._

_ Okay, with that settled. This is a DP fan fic that is based on Kendare Blake's amazing book "Anna Dressed in Blood". If you've read the Anna Dressed in Blood series, then you'd find some similar things in this story. If you haven't, that's alright, it won't affect your understanding of this story. _

_ Special thanks goes to my amazing friend,**Lightning Streak** for being patient with me, for giving me helpful suggestions and for making this idea possible. _

_Rating: High T. I'm not sure how far I could go with horror but it contains language and gory scenes that may not be suitable for the young._

* * *

The air whispered haunted.

Danny fought the shudder that was threatening to roll in him in waves. The breeze here was a woman's touch, if said woman was cold dead, clawed and biting. It raked Danny's scalp to foot, riffling through his thick, black hair, shuffling his clothes and brushing his skin the way a shark would caress its prey.

He let his gaze wander as he took in his surroundings. The bronze statue of a lion on its majestic roar was situated in the very center of the vast expanse of old brick buildings and foliage of trees. Lisle University boasted of education at its finest in the middle of Wisconsin-Nowhere, USA. No wonder it was infested with ghosts more serious than the ones back in Amity.

"Here's the handbook, inside includes a university map. The blue one is your Certificate of Registration which also has a list of your class schedule…" Danny ignored the rest of his guide's speech as he accepted the slim, dark blue and gold paperback that she handed him. The petite blond wearing a pink crop top and white pants was his pre-assigned Lisle University tour guide who told him earlier to refer to her as Star.

He thought she was just joking or maybe it was some sort of label from the kids in the school like, 'Poker Face, Pierced, Superman or Nerdy' but a glance from her university student assistant id claimed that 'Star' was in fact her real name. Star Sykes.

He tilted his head as he pondered about what could possibly make this semester different from others. He never intended for ghost hunting to be his full time career, in fact, he never envisioned it as his _lifetime_ career either. He wanted to be an astronaut since he could remember but life or rather, half afterlife happened. Ghost activities in a small town called Amity Park, spectral-zealous parents and one gargantuan disasteroid on the verge of breaking the Earth into pieces could do that to dreams. Since then, he was known as the ghost expert kid.

Expert was a relative statement but—

"So…Saturday at 8?" Star was peering up at him under her long, thick lashes and biting her lower lip, waiting. Danny blinked as he tried to grasp what she was asking him about.

"Um," One hand flew to the back of his neck to scratch it. "I have classes on Saturday?"

"Silly Danny," Star giggled and playfully hit his shoulder. Danny immediately stiffened at the sudden physical contact but his guide was too amused at him to notice. Were people in Wisconsin this at ease with strangers?

She smiled and it lit up her face. Danny thought she was kind of pretty when she first boarded down the steps of the administration building, cascading golden hair, heart-shaped face, light blue doe eyes, slim and tall with paraphernalia on one hand and a fuchsia purse on her arm but when she smiled, God, Danny couldn't help but smile back. She was Barbie, college student limited edition.

Star slightly turned her head and her fairy-tale blond hair tumbled down and curtained the left side of her face. She carefully tucked a few strands behind her ear. "Nobody has classes on the first Saturday of the first school week. It's … a university holiday. So as per tradition, we have this massive party. And you're definitely invited." She winked at him and he almost forgot his purpose for transferring here.

"I'm new?" Danny shifted his weight and continued to rub the back of his neck. Although he was not a party animal, he was curious about this university holiday that he never heard of.

Star rolled her eyes. "So? Everyone's _new_ every semester." She slanted him a look that he felt meant something that he was supposed to know. Star sighed softly. "Please tell me you're not staying at your dorm on a Saturday evening sorting through boxed stuff."

Danny frowned. "No." He had far better _stuff_ to sort on his Saturday night off but he wasn't about to let Star in on that one.

Star pouted. She was becoming more annoying and less beautiful to him after every sentence out of her thin, rosy mouth. "You still don't look interested in the party." She tilted her head again and placed one hand on her waist, deep in thought. "There'd be lots of people, booze, fun…"

"Sounds cool but I kinda promised my mom I'd fix her car this weekend." He attempted to appear shy and embarrassed. Girls usually step down when he played the mom card.

"Can't you just do it on Sunday?" Okay, maybe not this girl. Danny would have loved to meet Star's parents on the day she was born so he could persuade them to name her Persistent instead.

He shook his head. "Sorry, no. Got therapy on Sundays." This got the reaction he was aiming for. Star looked shock for a second before she opened her mouth to undoubtedly pry on his life again but Danny decided to beat her to it. "Previous university and doctor recommendation. Either therapies on Sundays or 8-month lock down. I chose therapy."He shrugged and watched as Star took it in.

For a second, her confidence wavered and uncertainty crossed her face but she squared her shoulders and looked at him right in the eye. Danny had to give her some credit. She wasn't as easily scared as he thought. "Yeah, I saw the records. Hope you don't mind though. Part of the job as student assistant."

Danny shrugged again and Star changed the topic as they strolled around the campus. If she saw the records and still stuck to being his tour guide then she was tougher than he expected. Those records were evidence of his _condition_. Doctor and university administration notes, probably with pictures of some of the bruises, cuts and wounds that were labeled as results of self harm.

Danny kept his pace as he glanced at the peeling blue and gold paint of the buildings. Peaceful and common this place might seem, he knew better. He could feel the numerous spectral energies lurking deep behind the shadows. He could feel them. He could feel her.

* * *

"You found out anything interesting today?"

Danny tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he crouched down on the wooden floor of his dorm. He reached a hand and grabbed a cable, jammed it to the back of his printer and plugged it on a nearby extension cord. He let out a contented sigh as he climbed back to his bed and typed on his computer.

"Not really." He mumbled into the phone as he opened his email and downloaded the attachment. He hit the print button. The printer started grumbling to life. He heard a groan from the other line.

"That's your 300 B.C printer at work, isn't it? Dude, how many times do I have to tell you to buy something from this era? You could wake up the neighborhood with that thing."

Danny scowled. "Tucker. This printer's—"

"Yeah, yeah. Extraordinary and sentimental antique. So how's Lisle?" It was Danny's turn to groan. "I'll take that as a compliment." The guy from the other end of the line, Tucker, chuckled.

Danny stretched his legs and crossed it on the ankles as he set aside his laptop. "The student assistant program is just annoying. Everything she assisted me with is something I could've done myself. Then she invited me to this 'massive party' on Saturday and was looking at me weird the whole time. I never thought about it until today but girls are much like ghosts in a way. They are both so full of tricks. She was doing these lashes and eye thing like she was pawing through my mind and waiting for me to say some—"

"Whoa! Whoa! Hold on, you just got settled in Wisconsin for a week and you already have a girl flirting with you? That's awesome, man! Tell me, tell me everything! You don't just get worked up over a girl. What's her name? Stats? Man, I should've bailed on my dad and come with you that day."

Danny rubbed a hand on his temple and closed his eyes. "No, that's alright. Your dad needs you, although things would be better if you're here already. I can't get the hang of this research. And yeah, Star. Her name's Star. And I'm not worked up over her. I'm more bothered by the same fact that living people are sometimes worse than the dead."

"Ow, man! That hurt!" Danny's lips curved upward as he imagined Tucker putting a hand over his heart and sending him a look of betrayal. "You're one of the few exceptions, of course." He quickly amended and they both chuckled.

The phone call with his best friend lasted for about two hours as they both discussed classes and university rules and other important matters. Danny tried to scour the internet for supernatural information regarding Ashland, many of it turned out to be hoaxes after hours of painful reading so he decided that the best way to research was to gather it personally from the locals.

Danny checked the time, it was half past six in the evening. The perfect time to go out and do his job. But first, he had to do his other job.

* * *

"You're the new part-time keg delivery guy?" Mr. Lancer, a balding fifty-something bulky guy who turned out to be Danny's boss raised one bushy brow at him and lit up his cigarette. He puffed the smoke out and continued to intimidate him through his relentless glare.

"Yes, sir." Danny kept his posture straight and met Mr. Lancer's eyes unblinking. The man who introduced himself as a former army guy interrogated Danny even when Clark, the hiring officer and another beefy guy, declared him as already hired and was about to start tonight.

"Can you drive a pickup? Or even lift a keg?" Mr. Lancer eyed Danny's arms and torso which showed no rippling muscles whatsoever unlike the black sleeveless ones the employees wear.

"Yes, sir." Danny wanted to punch the man so hard and flip him twenty times to prove he could lift a damn keg but he refrained himself. They might declare him overqualified and refer him to UFC instead if he showed off.

He had strength and agility but he was not bumped in various places like these guys and he liked to keep his body that way. No ghost would have the element of surprise if he was a towering, green-skinned, muscled-freak.

"Step into my office, please." Mr. Lancer dropped the remains of his cigarette to the trash bin and opened a gray door at the back of the room. Danny wanted to roll his eyes but he followed him inside nonetheless. Mr. Lancer shut the door behind him. He then rounded his table and stood in front of a bookshelf. He didn't even offer a seat.

He turned to Danny. "If you are what they say you are, then your first job tonight is the shutters."

Danny cocked a brow at him. So the earlier interrogation wasn't really about the keg business. It didn't matter though, he was here for the big catch not for amateur practices.

"I don't accept no for an answer." Mr. Lancer pinned him with his sharp eyes even before he could utter a word. "Mr. Fenton, if you want to work here, you'll do the extra work I ask you to do. If you don't like my rules then you're free to find another job that lets you roam at night in search of ghost stories and ghost themselves."

Danny sighed. Great, first night at work he was set up on a deal with the bossiest of all bosses. It wasn't that bad considering someone local knew about the nature of his job, which meant Mr. Lancer was in the circle besides, what better way to start his night than to actually do what he came here for? Danny couldn't fight the grin stretching on his face. "Where's the shutters?"

Mr. Lancer reflected what Danny was feeling. "The farthest shed in the back. Your guy is the drunken one, don't put yourself anywhere near the shutters I don't want to see your bloody sandwiched body in the morning."

Danny's blue eyes glinted. "You won't."

"I've already sent the others on their way so you don't have to worry about witnesses. Anything useful you might need, get it from my shelf." Mr. Lancer threw something in the air and Danny's hand instinctively caught it. He opened his palm and it revealed two keys."The rusty one's for the shed, the other for my shed."

He nodded. "Thank you but I've got this." He grabbed open the door and turned to leave.

"Danny." He glanced back at Mr. Lancer. "You'll be paid for every ghost you take down, of course." This time, Danny did smile approvingly at him.

* * *

Danny's eyes scanned the area first. The temperature had dropped considerably when he reached the edge of the forest. Leave it to Mr. Lancer to build a shed this far from his store and have someone died here. According to the additional information Mr. Lancer shared, the shutters was originally a cabin built by a hunter back in the 60's. One stormy night, a man on his late 20's drunkenly mistaken it as a cabaret because he had seen the silhouette of a woman undressing.

Turned out it was the hunter's wife who the drunken man came after. He broke down the door when he found it was locked and rushed toward the room. The hunter who always slept with his weapons thought it was a bear when his wife screamed so he shot it in the knees and slashed its throat. The man bled to death in the cabin and to cover up the kill, the hunter escaped with his wife. He left the drunken guy inside, spilled kerosene around the cabin and burned it down.

Years later, when someone bought the land, they built a shed on the same spot for hunting equipment storage. The land owner went in alone one day to gather his equipment but he was shot and slashed to pieces by the dead drunken guy.

More years passed and mysterious, gory deaths later, the people decided to leave the shed alone. Nobody wanted to have to do something about a shed that killed people.

Danny snorted, why would the hunter shot a 'bear' on its knees and slit its throat? He could've just shot it in the head. Danny pinched his nose. He was doing it again, playing Sherlock on cases that required final action instead of investigation.

He sighed and let his curiosity go.

He needed to be focus. He inhaled and rolled his shoulders. He couldn't afford to be soft. He drummed his fingers against his leg and narrowed his eyes. This was a job, nothing personal. He was doing the living a favor and he was freeing the dead.

He really hoped he was.

Then he felt it. He didn't know how to refer to it, a faint sound in the dark, a subtle drop in temperature or a prickle of his skin.

Then Danny was excited. His gaze swept the area again and when he was satisfied that he was alone he took a deep breath. He warily approached the bottom of the shutters and inserted the rusty key to the equally rusty padlock. He twisted the key and nothing happened. He tugged on it and soon the lock fell to his hand.

"Tricky old man." He mumbled to himself. The padlock was an ancient thing it didn't even need the key! Danny pocketed the set of keys and dragged the shutters up.

He was instantly met by the stale, rancid air. His nose wrinkled in disgust but he braved it and casually stepped inside the dark shed. The shutters immediately crashed down but Danny was already inside. If he was stupid, the shutters would have finished him off. He was enveloped in utter darkness but he was not worried. Years of ghost hunting built him a backbone for instances like these.

Back in Amity, the ghosts were _light_. They disturbed the peace, caused panic and fear, always after their obsessions like the box Ghost who was obsessed with boxes, Technus with technology, Skulker with hunting. (Although if Skulker was here, he'd be proud of this shed. Or at least what it used to be.) But they never killed anyone.

Danny learned the hard truth seven years ago. There were others, too malevolent to handle and too psycho to catch and chuck back to the Zone. There were ghosts that actually killed people. Those were the ones that required full termination. The ones he couldn't talk to and convinced to move on, or as people say, 'go into the light'. They were the hopeless case. And the worst, too.

Danny ducked and rolled to the right just as he sensed an attack. Shots fired and Danny clashed to the wall, it rattled and metals started dropping onto him. He quickly crawled out of the way.

Two bullets whizzed past and he heard a groan. Danny got back on his feet, widening his stance and keeping his senses alert. He paused and maintained shallow breaths. It would had been better if they were somehow in an open space where he could breathe clean air but wishful thinking wouldn't get him anywhere so he sucked it up, rotten stench and all.

"Where is she?!" A voice demanded and another gunshot dinged. Pale green light pooled in the front and the ghost began to reveal itself. A man dressed in what looked to be a brown button down and pants swayed heavily, he had a bottle in his hand. His hair was long and matted, as if he was sweating on this cold evening. He turned to Danny and attempted to tidy up his appearance and that was when he saw it.

His shirt wasn't brown, it was splattered with dark blood and the knees of his ripped pants busted and oozing with the same dark matter. His skin was white and papery, the portion of his face where his eyes were supposed to be was nothing but empty black sockets. He tilted his head slowly at Danny. "You're no woman…" He trailed off and his mouth lazily stretched into a smile.

But Danny wasn't looking at his rotting mouth, his eyes were fixed on the drunken man's neck where the skin started to open a yawning line and black liquid bubbled up and poured down.

Holy shit, the guy had two fucking smiles!

Drunk man sized up Danny then he lunged at him. Danny let all his amazement go and his eyes glowed green.

He was fucking prepared.

* * *

**A/N:** I know this is kind of a filler chapter instead of a good introduction and I feel like I crammed it with extra back story factors. I've repeatedly debated whether to start in the middle of the action or go for the classic introduction. I think this chapter is neither of the two.

Comments, questions, opinions, suggestions or violent reactions? Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Danny raised his left arm, aimed and pulled the trigger. The Fenton blaster knocked his opponent a good ten feet back. Two-smiley guy reared back his head and let out a guttural sound, he zoomed toward Danny again, his wispy arm clawing its way to Danny's face. He blocked it with his left arm, butting smiley-neck on the jaw. He roared again but Danny was quick to deliver his final blow. He had the hilt of the Fenton Dagger ready and swiped it vertically across the ghost's chest.

For a second, the face of the once man appeared, his black irises widened in fear and his chapped, decayed lips contorted in pain. He stared at Danny in shock as the wound continued to tear on both sides. Black oil welled from the inside, oozed down to his waist and up to his face. It consumed every part of him until the dead person became nothing but swirls of black smokes that evaporated into the night.

Danny looked at the Fenton Dagger in his hand, it was smeared with the awful black blood. He was sweating and panting. And God, he was still breathing in that horrible stench. He sheathed the dagger and hoisted it to his waist under the cover of his white, now dirty, loose shirt.

He shrugged and scrambled out the shed.

He needed a shower.

* * *

"You look like shit."

"I smell like shit too." Danny hastily took off his shirt and threw it down the floor. He unbuckled his belt and dagger then zipped down his jeans.

"Whoa! Whoa! Man! No cybersex tonight. I am so not in the mood!" Tucker Foley flailed his arms on the screen and ran a hand down his face, sending Danny a glare.

Danny smirked and repositioned his laptop on the pillow. His voice took on a deeper tone and he winked at the web cam. "I thought it turns you on when I talk dirty."

Tucker's snort echoed from the built in speakers. "Not when you're actually dirty. Dude, you are so gross!"

"I don't know, Tuck, you go ghost killing in a rusty shed that hasn't been opened for who knew how long and let's see if you come out looking sterilized as a surgeon."

"Jeez! No need to use hospital-related comparisons. The mere mention of surgeons gives me goose bumps." Danny paused and watched as Tucker rubbed his arms.

"I tell you about a ghost with a slashed neck and bleeding black blood that attempted to punch bullet holes in my body and you get all paranoid with the mention of surgeons? How come I'm the one who kills the dead and you're the weird kid?"

His best friend chose to ignore the rhetorical question. "You okay?" Tucker asked in a serious tone and Danny popped his head from the open closet with a raised brow. He gave his best friend a smirk. "Of course." Then resumed back on finding clean clothes.

"Did you—"

"No." Danny replied coldly. Then he pasted a wicked grin on his face as he turned back to his laptop, wriggling his brows. "I'm going to shower now, wanna join me?"

Tucker choked and made vomiting sounds from the screen which earned a chortle from Danny as he began to pickup his computer. "Later!" Tucker quipped and the window containing his best friend's blanching face went black even before Danny could execute his plan. He sighed and flipped his gadget shut then padded to the bathroom.

* * *

"Is my slot-invite to the party still open?" Danny leaned against the locker and gave Star his best boy-next-door grin.

She was talking to someone on her phone when she whirled around and paused. Her blue eyes took in Danny's clothes and his face before she hung up and pursued her lips. "That depends. Can you turn on that charm again and clean up better?"

The corners of Danny's eyes crinkled in delight as they both shared a chuckle. Socializing was always a part of the job, the key point was to stick close to the people who knew a lot of people, AKA the Queen Bee. Often times, he enjoyed it more than he should.

He tilted his head playfully. "Hmm, that's a tough one. I might have to google how to turn on a non-existent charm and put myself in a washing machine."

Star rolled her eyes. "You have to do better than that, you know. Girls are getting better with witty comebacks to lame pick up lines."

He took an offended step back. "Are you saying I'm lame?"

Star gave a cheeky grin that revealed a perfect set of pearly whites. "I'm saying I'm witty. So technically, blonde jokes do not apply to me." She fixed him with a leveled glare and turned on her heel.

Danny was left open mouthed for a second before he did something very uncool. He yelled, "What about Saturday?" To his dismay, he earned a few weird looks from the other kids milling around.

* * *

"How are you planning to take her out?"

Danny stopped leafing through the keg inventory list and arched a brow at the question. He capped the pen and set the clipboard on the counter before he leaned against it and chewed on his lower lip. "I might ask to borrow your truck and drive her to the party?"

Mr. Lancer looked like he wanted to get his rifle and make a target board out of Danny's head. "I honestly wonder how you're able to keep yourself alive up to this point."

Danny choked. "Excuse me?"

Lancer crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm asking you about the damn slaughteress, you idiot."

"Oh," Was all Danny cleverly came up with. He wanted to tell Lancer to take off his prying nose, canned it to his keg and Danny would happily push it down a cliff. Lancer was still waiting impatiently to hear his reply and Danny shrugged. "I don't go around announcing my plans."

Lancer shook his head and his chest rumbled with dry laughter. "Simply translated to 'I don't have a frigging plan'."

Danny's eyes hardened but he kept his mouth shut. One of the cons of having people who knew about his job, they tend to demand updates and act as if this was a group assignment.

"Do you even know how many she killed?"

"About seventy people." He returned a tad too obnoxious for his own benefit. Ex-Army men like Lancer didn't get off people's back until they deem them proven and worthy enough. Danny watched as he seemed unimpressed by his answer.

Lancer opened his mouth again to interrogate him but he decided against it. The mere look on Danny's face told him to shut up, and he knew that when a man wanted to do something by himself, you let him do it. He was also aware that when a man needed help, he'd begrudgingly come to you. He unfolded his arms. "Suit yourself, then."

Danny picked up the clipboard again when Lancer's voice drifted back.

"Fenton."

"Sir."

"You're not allowed to party while working. Finish your shift before you start fooling around."

Danny set his jaw and nodded wordlessly. Lancer finally left and didn't approach him again until his hours were done. He went back to his dorm about two in the morning, tired, irritated and questioning himself about getting such a stupid job when he could be focusing on university and trying to make it through college.

He was about to pass out on his bed when he noticed something wet and dripping on his wall. He got up and flicked on the lights. At first he thought the slaughteress got bored and tried to spook him herself but then the smell hit his senses and he knew the memo didn't come from the dead. It was worse. It had come from someone breathing and plotting.

The wall beside his bed was vandalized with big, bold, red letters that read:

_FUCK OFF!_

Danny didn't waste time staring at the graffiti, instead he quickly checked his belongings. One shove in his closet confirmed it was ransacked but nothing was permanently damaged, just clothes that were stepped upon and hung back up. He crouched and looked under his bed, no dead and bloody animal or prosthetic hand was nicely wrapped below there. He pulled the drawers, nothing seemed amiss.

He grabbed a black bag pack from the closet's secret compartment and rummaged through its contents. Thankfully, they didn't find this. His other weapons were still intact and unharmed. Good thing he always kept the Fenton Dagger with him. He zipped the bag shut and locked it back to the hidden compartment.

He yanked his school bag and checked it. Bless Tucker's OCD when it came to gadgets, he always insisted that Danny bring his laptop whenever he went. It was encrypted and safe in his bag pack which he had with him from university to work.

With everything seemed under control, he went back to bed. He could deal with the living tomorrow.

* * *

The banging on his door jolted Danny awake.

His hand automatically grasped the dagger that was resting under his pillow but a tiny conscious voice in his head warned him that ghosts didn't bang, they just phase through. With that comforting thought, he grabbed the dagger and sheathed it on his waist then he cracked open the door.

Witty Barbie was standing outside her small fist hovering in mid-air, prepared to smash down his door again. Upon seeing Danny's disgruntled state, she broke into a heart-stopping smile and let her hand fall back to her side. "Uhm, good morning." She started shyly.

Danny's hand held the door while the other desperately tried to pat down his bed head. He fervently hoped that there wasn't any trace of drool on his chin. "I didn't make any blonde jokes, did I?"

Star giggled. "No, and I'm here to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I thought you were doing The Moves." She bit her lower lip and looked up at him hopefully.

"The what?"

She shut her eyes and brought a hand to her face. "Sorry. Never mind. I thought you were doing something annoying, I didn't know you were just really asking about the party. Gosh, I'm so stupid. And yeah, the invite still stands, if you still wanna go?" She was doing that distracting thing again with her big blue eyes but Danny was in no mood to figure out what it was and he suddenly had a flashback of what Lancer said about the party.

He sighed. "That's okay. I'm afraid I can't go."

Star's face fell.

"No, no it's not about yesterday. I'll be working on Saturday; my boss is kinda giving me a hard time. That's all."

Star's heart-shaped face lit up teasingly. "So the evil step-boss is making you do all the chores first. I hope your car won't turn into a pumpkin by midnight." She paused and beamed at him. "See you around, Danny-rella."

Danny wanted to protest against the pet name but a guffaw from his left made him stop. He opened his door wider and glanced to the left. There was a blond guy wearing a varsity football jacket, leaning against the opposite wall and watching the scene with unhappy, light blue eyes.

He slowly got off his post and sauntered in front of Danny's door, straightening up to his full height. The blond thought he'd tower over Danny with his boulder-shoulders and muscled-frame. Danny continued to give him a blank look but his bare feet were firmly planted on the floor and his knees unlocked. What Danny lacked in the bulky department, he made up in agility. The trick was to get the threat thinking that he had you cornered with his eyes.

"May I help you?" Danny asked lazily but his blazing blue eyes stated otherwise.

The blond smirked. "Yes, kindly fuck off, will you?" Then he turned to leave but not before throwing another remark over his shoulder. "And while you're at it, you might want to clean off your walls. Vandalism is strictly prohibited in Lisle."

Danny slammed his door shut before he changed his mind and use the dagger to eliminate the living. If he did that, he'd end up killing Mr. Thick Head'N Shoulders twice. On second thought, slashing him the second time as a ghost would probably be a fun way to spend the day.

* * *

Time didn't fly in Ashland. It slipped between Danny's fingers like motor oil and left a slinky trail behind. By the end of the week he managed to get as much information he could about the blond body builder who knew how to say kindly right before he say fuck off. At least he had some twisted grammar style, Danny would give him credit for that.

Danny learned Mr. My-varsity-jacket-says-it-all was legally known as Dashiel "Dash" Baxter, Lisle University Football Quarterback, Basketball Captain, Volleyball trainer, and No-balls when it came to Dean Lister Star Sykes.

Danny would've added 'heart rob' on the description if he had magically perfect hair, wore skimpy clothing and red lipstick but he was too mature for that so he rephrased heart rob and turned it to douche king instead. If he was ever assigned to make a facebook profile for Dash, he bet people would worship him for his proficiency in three languages, English, Sarcasm and Profanity.

The grin forming on his lips was instantly reprimanded by a scowl that appeared in his line of sight.

"Find something amusing, Fenton?" Lancer the big, bald boss shot him an impatient sneer. Danny immediately dropped his smile and his eyes, and wiped the marble counter rather too hard.

"One of these days, that counter would break under the pressure of your ever-so wiping hands."

Danny fought hard to keep his mouth shut, he just came up with a list of things that he would like to break under the pressure of Lancer's meddling hands. "How did you know about the Slaughteress?" Lancer probed and grabbed a seat which Danny had just spent minutes trying to organize.

"I didn't." Danny grumbled and Lancer stood. He snatched the cloth from his hand. Danny looked up and saw the cloth soaring in the air and landing inside a nearby bucket. Danny gritted his teeth, that bucket was for the mop.

"Who told you?"

"Nobody."

Lancer slammed his palm on the counter and narrowed his piercing light blue eyes at Danny. "You don't want to mess with me, _Daniel._"

Something within Danny snapped at the use of his first name and he turned his back abruptly, fully intending on ignoring Lancer till the day he grew white hair which was highly unlikely.

"Jack was a dear friend of mine."

Danny froze on his step and by the time he recovered his wit, Lancer had strode out the shop and into the night, leaving only a trail of cigarette smoke.

It was around 1:30 a.m when Danny finally finished his shift, he went to his locker and shrugged out of his work clothes. He grabbed his phone and speed dialed Tucker. He grabbed his last clean shirt, thank goodness he left one here, and put it on. Tucker's voicemail played back and Danny clicked his teeth in annoyance.

"Tuck, where are you? Call me as soon as you get this. I think—ugh," He ran a hand through his hair. "Just ring me ASAP, okay?" Then he hung up and slung his backpack on his shoulder. He was feeling pretty rebellious. He grabbed the keys on the hook. Lancer would shoot fire from his nose but Danny didn't care. He would deal with him later.

He still had a party to attend.

* * *

"Danny!" Danny turned his head in time to see an over excited Star rushing to him and enveloping him in a bear hug. Who knew she could hug like a man would wring someone's neck?

"Oomph!" The breath was knocked out of him as Star's head bounced off his chest and she let him go giggling. That giggle. Damn, drunk college girl alert.

"Sorry!" She continued in that high-pitched, giggly voice of hers. Star wound up her arm around Danny's slim bicep and dragged him forward to the blasting music and swaying bodies. It was an outside party set in a forest, complete with bon fire and a small river off to the north.

"You came!" Star sang as she squeezed his arm.

"I did." He muttered. Star was saying something about his boss and pumpkin but Danny didn't hear her. A curly brunette passed by them. She didn't notice them but Danny definitely noticed her. She was wearing a yellow tank top and a short beige skirt. He didn't even saw her face but her posture and the way she carried herself caught Danny's eyes. She was confident, sure and brave. He didn't know how he got all that just by seeing her walk but it was something he probably picked off from Jazz.

Star pulled him deeper into the forest until they stopped to lean on a large tree. She patted his arm as if to comfort him. "There, there. This isn't so bad, huh?"

Danny grunted as his eyes surveyed the place. It seemed that he arrived at the perfect time, most people were already buzzed and everyone appeared to be happy. And high. Maybe some of them even both but that was not what he was looking for.

Star tugged hard on his arm and Danny turned his eyes on her. She didn't look as drunk as she was when he first saw her. In fact, her eyes were calculating. She gestured on a log and they both sat together.

"You're not here for the party." Star stated as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Danny. Really, was he that transparent?

Danny tilted his head playfully at her and ran his mind on what lie could be suitable for this particular situation but after a moment he realized getting defensive wasn't the best course of action to take. He dropped the act and stared at her with amused eyes. "Of course, you invited me here for a reason." The implication was thick in his voice but Star proved to be resistant with his antics.

"You're here for something. That I don't know of." She pursued her lips and studied him openly, like a student would look at an onion skin under a microscope.

Danny chuckled but held her gaze, he would be damned if he'd let blondie-tective figure him out. She could make as many theories as she'd like if it would keep her occupied but there was no way he'd let her in. "Now you're acting like my sister."

"So you have a sister."

Dang. Wrong move! Danny smiled even brighter. "Yes, yes I do." He took a timed pause. "But she's not as beautiful as you are."

Star's carefully drawn brows puckered. "Blondes are not your type."

"Excuse me?"

"You like brunettes."

Danny shrugged but he was pissed. Who the heck did this girl think she was? "I think I'm the one who's supposed to know what my type is."

Star grinned. "Ooh, I hit a nerve. No offense, Danny but you don't need to lie to me. I'm not your type. I saw your face when you first stepped foot in this place. You don't want to be here. But you have to. You're eyes are quick. You're always looking for someone. I was the first person to talk to you but your head turned when the curly brunette walked by. I'm not your type."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and winked at him. "I'm taking up Criminal Psychology, by the way."

Danny forced his shoulders to slump and he sighed. Of all the queen bees he could talk to, this one had to take up psychology. He smirked at her. "So I'm a criminal?"

Star mulled over that thought for a second before she shook her head. "No. Your records said that you're suffering from depression and causing self harm that was why they had to enforce the therapy. Of course some people could hide it very well but you, you're … something else."

Danny nodded his head thoughtfully. "I'm a case study then. Unique case study, hmm… if I answer all your questions, would I get a cookie afterward?"

Star gave his shoulder a light shove. "You're not. I just… I just want—"

"To figure me out."

She bit her lip and actually looked embarrassed. "Yeah."

Danny inhaled through his nose. "If I tell you I'm here for a girl, would you settle for that?"

Star's face lit up and she nodded earnestly. "That's it! That actually explains a lot. Thank you, Danny. Thank you!" Star hugged him again, this time longer and she wouldn't stop making happy noises.

A part of Danny wanted to see what Star's face would look like if he told her the truth, that he was here for a dead girl, and that was to kill her for good.

Star finally let him go and stared up at him with overwhelming interest. "So, what's her name?"

Danny's mouth opened to say, 'Sam' but before he even got the words out, his vision blacked out and he found himself kissing the ground.

He knew he heard Star scream because he got a glimpse of her opening her mouth and looking frantic before he was hauled up by the front of his shirt and jerked on his limp feet. With shaking knees, swimming vision and ringing ears, Danny forced his hands to grab the person holding him.

It didn't change anything for he was still dazed and his grip was nothing compared to the beefy hands keeping him upright. Danny slowly lifted his eyes at his attacker.

He was met by the raging eyes of one Dash Baxter.

Oh, jeez. This didn't look good.

* * *

**A/N:** I would like to thank _stormking92, Lightning Streak, Sam L. Manson, and floodmaster16_ for the first chapter's reviews. I appreciated all your thoughts.

Sorry, it's taking me ages to update. I've got some real life issues popping out.

Comments, questions, opinions, suggestions, violent reactions? Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

His damn bed was moving. Why was it moving? Why was it crawling with him on it? Tucker. It must be Tucker's fault. Really funny, Tuck. Prepare to get burned when Danny threw that precious PDA of yours.

Danny opened his eyes but he couldn't make out anything. His head was spinning. He tried again. No, his vision was really swimming. Everything was a blur. His fingers twitched and pain shot through his arm to his shoulders. He jerked and his feet flexed. That was when he realized what was wrong.

There was no bed. He was upright. Or at least someone was forcing him to be upright.

Then he felt his feet were being dragged and his shoulders were cranking in pain. He waited for a few seconds for his sight to clear. The muscles in the back of his neck were straining but Danny didn't dare lift his head. He was still struggling to resurface to the world of consciousness but his sight caught the rough, uneven patches of a dark road. It was quiet. He could only hear the shuffling feet and the slight puffs of their breaths. There was someone carrying him. No, _two_ someone_s_.

In a flash, Danny remembered the party and Dash. He flinched and began to struggle but they didn't budge. He was pretty sure Dash was one of the guys holding him because he could still smell the same brand of liquor that scoffed at him right before he received the multiple punches award.

He planted his limp feet on the ground and attempted to yank his arms out. The men halted and turned to him. "He's_ awake_." The guy on his left said, apparently he was that surprised.

"Then knock him out again." Ordered someone from Danny's right. _Dash._ Danny gritted his teeth, curled his fist and prepared to strike. Even before Danny's fist hit his target, someone clobbered the back of his head and everything went black. Again.

* * *

"What do we do?"

"Just toss him in!"

"The door's closed!"

"Then open it!"

Danny wanted to tell the hushed voices of familiar men to disappear. He was sleeping and he had a headache pulsating in his brain. They should shut up. He was sleeping. Someone shut them up, please?

He heard the slow creak of an opening door and the voices stopped. Good, now Danny could go back to dreamland. Wait. They were panting. Danny realized that before he even opened his eyes.

"I swear man, I didn't—"

"Just toss him in, Kwan and let's get the hell out of here."

"Okay, okay." Then Danny felt he was being lifted again. His eyes flew open as he sailed on air and through an open door. He landed with a huge thud inside a dark building. He coughed and rolled to his side. Damn Dash and whoever that Kwan was.

Danny tried to sit up but he was dizzy. An eerie wind blew and he felt the cold seeped through his head. He touched a hand on the back of his head. It stung. He felt something icy and clammy. Blood.

Danny sat up straight and looked around his surroundings for the first time. Where the heck was he?

"Good riddance, _Danny-rella!_" Dash yelled a few feet out the front door.

Danny's head whipped around in time to see Dash waving haughtily and a black-haired, Asian guy looking nervous beside him. Danny growled. Bullying, something that would never go out of style. He was still feeling disoriented thanks to the blow to his head but he stood on his feet. Only to crumple down again.

"Damn, dude! Look at him! I think I hit him too hard, he's unconscious again." Danny coughed and rolls of dust flew off the old floorboards.

"Of course he'd be unconscious, you hit him hard." _Because you ordered him,_ Danny wanted to say but his lungs were too busy shoving oxygen back to his brain and body. He pushed himself up on his arms and got on his knees. Something was wrong with his ankle, it hurt. He didn't remember twisting it when he fell but then again, he could barely remember how he got here so Dash must have something to do with it. Along with the fact that he planned to throw Danny into an empty, dusty house in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"What? Can't get up? Or can't get _it_ up? Both, maybe?" Dash guffawed loudly. "That's what you get for pushing your luck, Danny-rella. Too bad you don't have a fairy godmother here to help you now, huh?"

Danny ignored the rest of Dash's taunting, his hand grasping for anything he could hold onto. Everything was still blurry and his head was still heavy. He could feel his blood dripping on the floor. He was starting to feel cold.

"Do you even know where you are? Hahaha! You don't, do you?" Dash continued but Danny's mouth was temporarily disconnected from his brain. His smart ass comebacks would have to wait, right now, the sounds of his dripping blood should stop before he lost consciousness again. He managed to grab hold of a chair leg and leaned on the couch-shaped furniture behind him. He was inside a house, that he was sure of. An enormous, mostly empty, freezing house. He wondered if Dash owned this place. Was it some sort of headquarters where he sent his bullied victims to scar them for life?

"… about a hundred." Danny heard Dash's companion muttered. Kwan appeared to be the nicer type. He was still watching Danny with worry evident on his face while Dash was rambling on and on about this place.

"This is her house. You're in there. And you're absolutely dead…" At the mention of the last word, Danny finally paid attention to Dash.

"What did you say?" Danny pushed down on his elbows to lift himself up. He was feeling better but that annoying drip-drop of blood was still going on and echoing around the house.

Dash inhaled and looked at Danny solemnly. "You're a dead man, Fenton."

Danny would like to educate Dash more about his 'dead' status but his mind was slowly figuring out the pieces.

"FUCK! FUCK! Son of a bitch!" Kwan was staring at something inside the house. His voice was sky-rocketing a dozen octaves off the pitch chart.

Danny's mind finally clicked. No, it couldn't be.

"What has gotten into you?!" Dash bellowed at Kwan but Danny knew what was happening even before Kwan got it out of his mouth.

"THE STAIRS! THE FUCKING STAIRS! LOOK AT THE FUCKING STAIRS! GOD, SHE'S— SHE'S HERE! SHE'S REAL!"

Danny's eyes slowly peered up the stairs. He didn't see anything at first but he already had a bad feeling about this. Nonetheless, he still found himself frozen and in awe at what he saw, because at the top of the old, rickety stairs a hazy form of a woman appeared. The image started as blurry like she was gathering up her energy to be corporeal but a second later, she was a full, moving … thing.

Danny's mind swiftly switched back to alert mode. He patted his pants pocket, his waist. Nothing. Great, his dagger and blaster were back inside the pick up that was parked near the edge of the forest where the party was. Way to go for a ghost hunter.

The guys were still continuing with their commotion and Danny's eyes gazed back at the second floor landing of the old house. His jaw hit the floor.

Sam The Slaughteress was floating at the top of the stairs, her long, dark hair writhing behind her like she was the horror version of Ariel, only out of the water. He was pretty certain he had good eyesight but with probably a cave in his skull from the earlier beating, Danny was having trouble grasping and acting on this situation. He could make out a few details of a flowy skirt but he couldn't see her death wounds.

Other ghosts wore their last, fatal blow like a gold medal but Sam, she was different. Her eyes were pools of oily black. Her skin was thin, white and almost luminiscent, Danny could see a few violet veins standing out in contrast of her bright skin. And holy shit, she was coming down the stairs!

"FUUUUCCKKK!" Danny heard one of the guys screamed, he wasn't sure which one because they both sounded like a girl who had seen a flying cockroach but he didn't give a damn. He was too busy gawking at Sam, who was weightlessly floating down without her bare, white feet touching the steps. Her hands were at her sides like a marionette being played by a puppeteer. Her head was a bit bent to the side and her oily black eyes staring at nothing.

Danny wished she didn't see him but he somehow knew that she was seeing everything.

She finally stopped at the foot of the stairs. The floorboard creaked. The blood dropped again.

Sam was horrible. A dead woman in what used to be a white skirt. The dress was a flimsy, sleeveless thing, drenched in dark blood. Out of all the things he could think about, Danny realized one thing; the dripping blood wasn't coming from his head, it was from her bleeding dress.

Something was rattling Danny's body and it took him a moment to realize it was his goddamn knees shaking. His back hit the wall. There was nowhere to run. And no, he also didn't know he was trying to get away from her.

"Sam." Danny breathed and for a second, he was pretty sure he caught her off guard. He was sure they saw each other, eye to eye.

He was also sure about one thing. Sam was the goddamn goddess of death.

One moment she was a few feet away from him, the next she was hovering before him. Danny couldn't speak anymore. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be gathering more information about her. He was supposed to be plotting ways to kill her. Fuck this shit, he was supposed to be strong and at least running away from her!

She waved a chalk-white hand. A strong breeze swooped in and Dash landed right beside Danny.

"No! No! Man, p-please! G-god, j-just a joke!" Dash tried to tuck himself into a ball but a force lifted him off the ground, his arms and limbs stretched out. He flailed but he was held in place. He began screaming or crying. Danny felt that he was shouting too. Both of them begging her to stop. He could also hear Kwan in the background but he didn't dare step foot inside the house.

Sam wasn't listening.

She tilted her head as if thinking where to strike best. Then her arms shot forward, purple, blackish veins popped out and wrapped around her papery skin and before any of them could blink, her pale arms thrust through Dash's torso and he shrieked in agony. He struggled but she had an immense power over him. She treaded her hand down inside his body like she was cutting through butter and finally yanked her fist out. Blood erupted from his mouth as Dash let out one last scream and he dropped to the ground, two halves of him twitching. His eyes rolled lifelessly around its sockets.

Danny stopped breathing and turned his head. He didn't want to see Dash's twitching fingers or his intestines jerking around.

A squishy sound made him look back at her. She had turned her attention on him. One of her fists was curled. Danny gulped. God, he was next!

He tried to clear his mind as he breathed deeply. This was better. He knew that this was bound to happen anyway. Dying in the hands of the most powerful ghost he ever faced was better than dying on a forest because some football hulk-idiot hit him on the head.

Sam offered her fist to him and Danny blinked. She opened her palm and inside was a little black mass of dying flesh and broken veins squirting with dark blood. Danny felt the rush of vomit coming from his throat but he refused to give into it. Dash's still pulsing heart stayed in the air for another second before she crushed it between her long, white fingers. Droplets of blood splashed on Danny but he didn't care.

He just wanted to get out of here. He was in no shape to fight and in no mood for live, gross shows.

Before he even made sense of what he was doing, Danny found himself trying to crawl out of the house. The door banged shut. He stiffened. So she wasn't planning to let him out. Fantastic.

Without any warning, he was lifted off the ground. His arms and feet stretched out the same way Dash looked right before he was cut in half and got dismembered. Whether it was out of desperation or insanity, Danny snickered. Sam paused.

"What, no originality? Not even a hint of art in what you do? You just hang people in the air and tear them into pieces like what you did with Dash? Come on, I expected more from you." The taunt would have carried more conviction if his knees weren't trembling and if he was breathing calmly instead of panting and sweating.

Sam's brows knitted but she didn't say anything and out of all the emotions that Danny was feeling, annoyance won the title of crossing his face. He was scared but he at least wanted this to be memorable, not just a Zeus-energized killer without any trace of humor in what she did. Okay, to be honest he wanted his death in her hands to be special.

Like Romeo-and-Juliet-tragic-ending special. Or something equally ... touching.

Danny had to admit he was a special kind of idiot for wanting this. What did he expect anyway? That he would meet a woman, fall in love and have a family with her and then they would be the coolest, ghost hunting family the world would have ever known? He wouldn't do that to his own wife and children (if he ever had any), that was basically dooming them.

No, there was no future family for Danny Fenton. No future wife too. Since he was going to die here and now.

He let out a long sigh. "You do realize they call you a slaughteress for a reason, right? You are not just a ghost legend because your routine is to kill people with a wave of your hand. Have some variety in your work."

Oh, God. He wanted to smack himself in the head. What the hell was he doing? He was giving her more ideas to make this very long and painful for him.

Sam's face didn't register any emotion. She didn't even give him a slightest inkling if she understood him. She was just... dead. She was worse than a zombie. At least a zombie would be giving him a look that said, 'You so delicious. You food.' With Sam, Danny didn't know if speech and cognition were part of her resume.

Because if she was nothing but a killing machine, then he would be very disappointed and he didn't know why he would be.

Sam raised a vein-covered hand to his face. The smell of death wafted to his nose. She reached and grasped his cheek. Her touch was cold and electrifying. When their skin met, bright white light exploded in the room and they were both thrown to opposite sides.

Danny was slumped against the wall and he looked down to check if his heart was still intact but his eyes bulged when he saw his black jumpsuit. He caught sight of his reflection from the window and his snow white hair beamed at him. Shit. First encounter with his target and he accidentally revealed his secret. He was a complete laughing stock.

He struggled to stand and met Sam's eye. He smirked at her to hide his obvious discomfort. "Surprise! Your meat is already half dead, you just need to do the other half of the killing."

"You're a ghost." Her voice was still feminine with an undertone of eeriness and an echo but it carried a hint of wonder.

"It speaks." He commented snidely, just to spite her. Great news then, she'd be able to understand his smartass lines now. Well, if he'd still have any left after she was done whipping his ass.

Danny rolled his shoulders. It ached, hell, everything in his body was screaming in pain but he wasn't about to show her that. He inhaled, he still got a bit of power left but it wouldn't be enough for a fight. Still it would work for some showing off. "Yup." He replied proudly and flew in front of Sam.

She seemed amazed for a second but she quickly distanced herself from him. Another fat drop of blood plopped down the floor.

Danny's brows creased. "For 'The Slaughteress', you've grown quite shy in my presence." Then he internally cringed. Christ, was he flirting?

"But you were human a while ago…" Her voice was small, almost child-like, as if she hadn't spoken for years. She drew her fingers to her black lips like this wasn't possible.

Maybe this was the case. The reason why this encounter was so bizarre, because she never talked to anyone who had the guts to enter her house, because all she did with people who stepped into this house was to end their lives. Maybe this was just as weird for her as it was for him. Maybe in all the grotesque shit that had happened tonight, this was a positive note. This was interaction.

Well, everybody had to start somewhere, right?

Then Sam did something that absolutely drove the screw to Danny's heart. She looked at him with disgust written all over her face.

Danny fisted his hands and bit his lower lip. She unknowingly hit a nerve. No matter how many times ghosts had given him the same reaction, it still stung. It hurt more that even the nastiest killer of them all had thought he was more terrible than her. He was an abomination. Monstrous. Worse than the slaughteress.

Then he remembered his father. How he fought and killed ghosts. How he taught Danny how to fight and take out ghosts on his own. How he died in the hands of a ghost who made Danny what he was now. Danny felt sick.

Flashes of that excruciating night filled his eyes. Danny curled in on himself as he shut his eyes. He gritted his teeth and clutched himself. Tears began pooling in his eyes and moans escaped his lips.

He could barely hear Sam above his own voice. He couldn't breathe. He was drowning. He was having a goddamn panic attack in front of the ghost he was going to kill and he couldn't do anything about it.

"HEY!" Was all that he heard from her before he got slammed on the wall and everything went black.

* * *

**A/N: **Special thanks goes to _Muffin_, _Lightning Streak_, and _Guest _for reviewing last chapter! Your reviews definitely made my day!

Comments, questions, opinions, suggestions, violent reactions? Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_Get back here, young man. I am not done talking to you!"_

_Fourteen year-old Danny's jaw clenched and he stopped in his tracks. His skinny limbs locked in place, tensed. His nerve endings vibrated in anger. He didn't turn around._

"_Daniel. What the hell is going on with you? Skipping school? Shoplifting? What's next, snorting coke?"_

He_ needed to shut up. _He_ needed to fucking shut his mouth up. Jack Fenton didn't have any clue what his son was going through right now so he should zip his mouth and go back to tinkering whatever piece of crap his clumsy hands could grab. Danny steeled his nerves and decided to take another step forward without any implication that he heard his father bellowing behind him and his mother weeping, trying to calm his stupid father down._

"_Jack! He just needs some time. He didn't mean—Jack!"_

_Danny was about to take the third step toward the front door when his arm was wrenched from behind and he was spun. He lost his balance and landed flat on his butt. His arm felt disjointed from the shoulder. He glared at the oversized, black haired man in front of him. _

"_You do NOT disrespect your own parents!" Jack Fenton's deep blue eyes pierced through Danny's insides, his beefy finger pointing at the lanky boy who stared back at him._

_Danny wanted to lash out, he wanted to break things and hurt someone but he didn't. He couldn't. Even if he was mad at his own father he didn't have the balls to engage on a battle with him. He was that much of a chicken. The guys at the school were right. He was nothing. He couldn't even stand up to his own parents, couldn't even tell them that he was hurting, that he needed time to lick his wounds._

_He couldn't even visit his best friend in the hospital for fear that he would reject him._

"_Jack, it's not his fault! Jack!" _

"_DAD!" That was Jazz, trying to sputter some sick sense to the commotion._

_Danny ignored them and stood. He brushed off bits of dirt from his pants and attempted to be as unaffected as possible. His feelings were too intense to handle. If he tried to talk, he'd probably end up screaming or crying. He also had a dislocated shoulder to worry about._

"_JACK!"_

_The blow to Danny's face jolted him out of his misery. His vision dimmed and when he reopened his eyes, he was back on the floor. He coughed and bits of blood sprayed on the yellow carpet. He pushed himself off the floor with unsteady hands, tears obscured his vision but he bit them back. He looked at his father's fury-filled face and instantly saw the regret in them._

"_S-son… I-I.."_

_Danny didn't let him finish. He whirled around and bolted out the front door._

"_Danny!"_

* * *

"Yep, he's fine. Just a little exhausted, you know, college, work, _girls_. Yep. Yeah, yeah. What? Nah, he's just a little buzzed. Whoa! No, not that—Alright, I'll tell him to call you. Okay? Okay. Bye!"

Danny watched as Tucker hit the off button on his phone and promptly dropped it in his bag pack. Danny blinked and rubbed his eyes. He wanted to get up but the cushion beneath him was too warm and too comfortable to resist. He reached a hand to his head to scratch it but drew his fingers short when he touched clumps of dried blood.

Questioning azure eyes turned to Tucker. Tucker scanned Danny's face first before he spoke.

"Are you feeling alright? What do you need, painkillers? Water? Hospital? Food? Women? Love?" Tucker cocked his head and put on a very straight face. "Cause I can definitely give you looove."

Danny began to grin when he remembered what happened. He immediately cringed and sat up. "Shit."

"I would have said bathroom's over there but since we don't have time for jokes. Yeah, shit kind of sums it all up." Tucker grabbed a plastic chair and parked it across the couch where Danny was. He plopped down and let out a sigh as he curled his fist on his lap.

Danny's eyes widened. "How did you find me?"

"Well, not all of us have ghost sense but we do have this handy trick called GPS. Kind of cool, actually. You just follow the blinking thing on the map."

Danny was starting to narrow his eyes at Tucker so he politely shut up.

Silence hung in the air and nobody dared to speak the inevitable, both of their eyes downcast, forlorn and thoughtful. Then Danny let out a long sigh and ran a hand on his face. "I screwed up."

"We both did." Tucker inhaled. "I'm sorry. If I was only—"

Danny shot him a glare. "_Good thing_ you weren't there. I don't want you anywhere near the inside of that place. Not you, or even Jazz. And do _not_ ever do anything that will drag Jazz here."

"Puh-lease. I made sure of that back when you were still out."

"Tucker, I'm serious."

"So am I, man."

"Good."

"Good."

They both crossed their arms and huffed. A second later, they both dropped the act and let out a long breath.

Danny leaned back on the couch and pressed a finger on his temple, dread filled his stomach and he could feel that buzzing, crawling anxiety coming back. He swallowed. It was just a suppressed memory. It had nothing to do with the situation at hand. It was just a déjà vu.

Because _she_ reacted _that_ way.

Because she gave him a big slap in the face when she had stared at him _that_ way. It wasn't offensive. It was just familiar. Similar to the one he received right after—

"Now what?" Tucker raised his brows at Danny and bit his lip.

Danny shook his thoughts away. He brought his hand down and looked at Tucker straight in the eye. "Now we assess the damage and bring out the police tape."

Tucker readjusted his glasses. His eyes sharpened. If there was one thing they learned about death, it was the fact that when it happened, they had to deal with what was left instead of coming up with fantasies of could have's, should have's and would have's.

"Who's the last person who has seen you with…" Tucker hesitated.

Danny planted both of his feet on the floor, grabbed the couch's edge and stood. "The other guy, Kwan something." He paused to grit his teeth. His ankle still needed some time to heal. "And Star. Probably a dozen more people since he decided to have a boxing match on a stupid party."

Tucker made a sound between a snort and a scoff. "What were you doing while I was out of the picture, running for student council? I thought we're supposed to stay low."

"Well, I wasn't—"

"Kudos also for revealing the big secret to the target. That was quite a performance."

Danny stomped his way to the fridge to get a cold glass of water. Pain shot through his ankle and up to his limbs but he ignored it. Tucker should stop bitching out, it was definitely not helping with his possible concussion. He yanked the pitcher out and drank from it. The cold rushed to his throat, down to his muscles with the intensity of a miniature tsunami.

Danny blinked and looked back at Tucker. His frown etched deep on his face. "How did you get me out?"

Tucker put a knuckle under his chin and sighed. "You were in her arms, all knocked out and still and wrapped in a white sheet, delivered right out the front door."

Danny stopped breathing for a moment. She touched him again? Sam enveloped him in her arms?

Tucker clucked his tongue. "In plain English, you got tossed out."

"What?"

Tucker shook his head at him. "You got the Queen of all Killer Ghosts and you expect to be handled with care? What are you, a freaking antique jar?" When Danny didn't say anything and continued to stare at Tucker with incomprehension, Tucker rolled his eyes. "I guess she didn't have any first aid training. She seemed a bit surprised seeing someone fainted. You got thrown to the wall at least twice before you were kicked out."

Danny opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of the water but no words came out. He was too baffled to form a coherent sentence. Tucker, the ever talkative best friend that he was, supplied all the information Danny's brain was struggling to get hold of.

"Kwan the sidekick disappeared right after he saw his friend got torn to shreds. Then Her Royal Slaughteress decided one kill for the night was enough, she was" Tucker shivered. "_Terribly_ uncomfortable with the fact that you passed out."

Danny's lips were pressed into a grim line. Tucker was being his usual, awkward self, making everything sound light and skipping the sensitive parts. For example, the part where Danny got all asthmatic and paranoid that he curled up and basically had a breakdown right there, inside the goddamned house.

Tucker rose and fiddled with his PDA. "So what's the plan?"

"You do what you do best and I go—"

"You _have_ to be fucking kidding me."

Danny shot dagger eyes at Tucker who looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in town.

"Really? You're going back there?" Tucker scratched his head impatiently. "People probably thought you're dead or stashed Dash's body somewhere and the first thing you're going to do is to go back to that goddamned house? Why don't you try to make amends with the living first?"

The line of Danny's body tightened. He was as immobile as a statue, staring Tucker down. "Then enlighten me, Einstein."

* * *

Showered, fed and feeling a wee better, Danny rounded the Psychology Building and leaned on a large tree, his eyes focused on the entrance. He crossed his feet and kept his fists on his hoodie's pocket. Ever since the encounter with Sam, his body went on a haywire. His ankle quickly and unbelievably healed. His temperature dipped. Even his human self was colder than usual. His senses were also annoyingly sharp. Too sharp that he found it hard to focus.

Then he spotted her. The familiar golden hair and pink stilettos. She was as cheerful as the day he met her but he caught her dropping the mask after the group of cheerleaders passed by. She clutched her purse tighter and chose the shaded path. She ducked into the trees.

Danny stepped out of the shadows. Star let out a frightened yelp but she calmed down as soon as she recognized his face, although she still looked a bit worried seeing him.

"Danny! A-are you okay? What happened? And God, I- I'm so, so sorry."

Star seemed as if she wanted to touch him to make sure he was real but she kept her hands to herself and let her eyes do the checking instead. The kind of checking that screamed, 'Please be real'.

Danny cleared his throat. If it wasn't for Tucker, he would have let her think something bad happened to him so he wouldn't need to worry about his façade and devote all his time and energy to Sam instead.

He ignored her question and cut right to the point. "Where's Kwan?"

Star appeared taken aback by Danny's rudeness. Her shoulders hitched like he was a predator about to pounce on her. Danny sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. "I'm sorry. I just really need to talk to him."

Star looked a bit relieved and she composed herself, the observant student mode was back on. "Honestly, I have no idea. I mean, it's not like we hang out every day but he and Dash have always been… active."

Meaning, Dash and Kwan were a constant presence. Danny didn't bother to correct Star, he just nodded. He had to think of something and he had to do it fast. They couldn't afford to have any more attention than what they were getting now. He had to shut up Kwan, since Star seemed clueless about what had gone down that Saturday night.

Speaking of Saturday night, he might as well check the house again just to make sure everything that happened was real and not some kind of twisted dream. He had made himself visible to the campus again and he already had a witness that Danny Fenton was okay, weird but alive. Well, sort of, but the message had been delivered, Danny Fenton went to school while Dash didn't and apparently so was Kwan. Danny felt strangely motivated but he was not about to question that feeling.

Monday classes be damned but he was not about to be bothered by something so mediocre when he just found that there was more to the infamous slaughteress. For example, the fact that she seemed to uphold herself as a higher ghost than Danny.

Danny blinked. Star was still adamant on apologizing to him but he didn't hear her. Everything had gone silent, like the TV was muted. The hairs at the back of his neck rose.

The temperature dropped. Danny's breath caught in his throat.

His heart froze.

_No._

That long raven hair, that white, lacy dress. Fifty feet away, she had her back to him but he couldn't be mistaken. She was floating, no; she was walking toward the fountain. Black combat boots. But it was definitely her.

The wind blew and strands of that silky, black hair moved with the breeze. Not like the writhing tendrils back in the house. It was just normal, just _alive_. She looked so alive it had to be a dream.

"Daniel!"

The noises and sights of the world assaulted his senses full force. Danny leaned a hand on the tree and stepped back. He felt light-headed, like the earth just tipped. What the hell had just happened?

He swallowed and his shoulders tensed. Wide eyed and heart thumping, his gaze switched back to the blonde in front of him who was giving him a worried look. There was no breeze and when his eyes flicked back to the fountain, it was empty.

"Sorry."He mumbled and strained his neck to scout the place for any hint of her presence, a glimpse of black hair, the crunch of boots to the pavement, the smell of lavender, anything.

Star drew in a deep breath. "I said I'm really sorry. I didn't know Dash would do something like that. He's always been a possessive jerk but we were never together and I didn't know he would go punching someone when he's drunk. I thought he was already dating that biology major. He said they were just going to talk to you. Of course that was the stupidest excuse of the century." She ruffled her hair; Danny had to pause to think, the queen bee looked thoroughly distraught with what happened. "Talk to you! When you were clearly out! How could I believe that? I am so stupid!"

Star stomped her foot and huffed. "I tried calling someone for help but nobody wanted to mess with Dash and his friends." She finished with a sad, puppy dog pout on her thin, pink lips.

Danny grunted but he wasn't hearing any of it. He was a hundred percent sure he just saw Sam. Well, it might be the concussion talking or the blood loss. Either way, Danny knew what he needed to do.

He nodded a vague reply to Star and turned on his heel.

He was going back to Sam's house. Kwan would have to wait because believe it or not. Danny couldn't wait to be back at her house again.

* * *

"More than seventy people in the last seven years! Dude, are you seriously out of your frigging mind?" Tucker yelled from the phone, Danny had it on his hand, away from his ear as he was already running. Never mind that he could clearly hear him as if he was standing right next to him, or the fact that he just ditched classes and was jogging like a madman in the middle of the day.

One thing was clear. Sam died seven years ago. Nobody knew exactly how or why. They just found her broken and bloody body on the grassy patch of the road, wearing a flimsy white dress.

Nobody could trace the cause of death. The body was a horrendous sight, covered with dried, dark blood, the lips chapped and white, frozen on a scream, the pale arms and limbs twisted with the evident struggle. The girl was bathed in blood but upon the autopsy, no wounds were found.

How could someone be coated in blood without any wounds?

Sam. Samantha Manson. She was just fourteen years old back then.

Everybody thought she was raped due to the dress. They speculated a night out went wrong, a kidnapping. A jealous boyfriend, an ugly fight, a drug addict on a cutting trip.

Theories swirled and gossips whispered but one doctor said it was poison, oozed out of the mouth, nose, ears and seeped from the pores of the skin.

Danny shook his head and clutched the phone in his hand tighter. Seeped out of the pores, his ass. That was clearly some spewed out bullshit that was the effect of one's desperation for a scientific, logical cause.

How could someone explain the blood? The amount of blood on her dress?

Of course, the real question was, why was Danny inexplicably excited to see her again?

* * *

**_A/N:_** Hey guys, how are you? I hope you're all doing okay. I know some of you might have skewed me with pitch forks if you knew where to find me because I failed to update and give some semblance of hope that I'm still alive. So sorry about being MIA for the past month or so.

Okay, some news, I've got a job but these past few weeks, my family keeps ending up hospitalized so I was juggling between work and temporarily staying at the hospital to watch over them. The better news is that, everything's fine now and I'm able to write again. Cheers to that!

Of course, thank you very much for the reviews and positive responses from last chapter, I do appreciate all of them! My warmest and deepest thanks goes to these awesome people, _Lightning Streak, elnine27, Cindy M 19, Expergiscimini, stormking92 and Favorite Daughter Of Hades. _

Comments, suggestions, opinions, questions, violent reactions? Please review.


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